


Dear Jack

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty is sick, Cancer, Counseling, Death of a loved one, Falling In Love, Father-Son Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Hospice, Hospitalization, Jack and Bitty are almost the same age, Jack and Bitty are teenagers, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, OMGCP Heartbreak Fest, Parenthood, Rehab, Rehabilitation, Young Love, loss of a child, mental health, mentions of overdose, past drug use mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 20:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11676972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: Just after his overdose, Jack Zimmermann meets patient Eric Bittle at New York–Presbyterian Hospital and the two make an immediate connection.  When Bitty leaves the hospital and Jack begins rehab in Montreal, they start a correspondence that will forever change their lives, and hearts.





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Dellessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa) in the [OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Characters/Pairings: Zimbits  
> Prompt Details: Jack meets Bitty during his stay in the hospital. Bitty is in the cancer ward. They continue talking after Jack leaves, and slowly fall in love. Things do not end well.  
> Additional Info: Epistolary fic would be awesome.  
> Squicks: Nothing  
> Maximum Rating: NC-17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 

_There are few things in life that give me actual chills._

_The sound of a perfect slap shot hitting the net._

_The first minute of David Bowie’s _Space Oddity _.___

_And the rare nights when I dream and am lucky enough to see him again, see him dancing in that spotlight on stage, smiling at me…_

**+++**

The cold tile felt good against Jack’s socked feet. It made him feel something, so he was thankful for that. He’d been in the hospital for more days than he could keep track, and would be able to leave in a few more. At least that’s what maman had told him. Papa hadn’t said much of anything. 

__Jack pressed his forehead against the large plate glass window and watched the people on the street below going about their daily lives. They had no idea that while he stood there as they walked to lunch, to work, to their homes, living, breathing and feeling… he was there feeling his life fall apart._ _

__“When we leave here, sweetheart, we’ll go straight to the Andrews House back home,” Alicia had said to him as she smoothed the hair away from his forehead._ _

_We._ Jack loved his mother for lumping herself with him in all of this, but it made Jack feel so ashamed and undeserving of that love. 

__“How long will I be there?” He asked. Jack had had enough of hospitals, and the prospect of going into another one immediately after felt daunting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been outdoors._ _

__Bob turned to look at Jack and said quietly, “As long as it takes.”_ _

__That was yesterday morning, and the last thing his father had said to him since._ _

__Jack placed his palms on the glass, and exhaled shakily._ _

__“Fuck.”_ _

__He stood there and thought about what had happened earlier that day._ _

__“With your dual diagnosis, Jack, Andrews House is a good fit for you. It’s one of the best places in Montreal,” Dr. Martinez had said as she sat next to Jack’s hospital bed._ _

__Dr. Martinez had been Jack’s psychiatrist for a few years now, and Jack trusted her. He’d have phone sessions with her, and traveled once a month to New York to see her. And now, he was embarrassed that he had let her down as well._ _

__“You’ll stay here till the end of the week and then we’ll discharge you,” Dr. Martinez said as she stood, clipboard in hand._ _

__“Thank you, doctor,” Alicia said as Dr. Martinez smiled softly._ _

__“Jack, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ve advised the head nurse to call me right away if you need me. And you should get out of the room. Walk around a bit. It’ll do you some good,” she said as she reached for the door._ _

__Jack nodded and muttered, “Thanks.”_ _

__Alicia looked at Jack. “Do you want some juice or anything else?”_ _

__“No thank you. Where’s papa?”_ _

__“He’s at the hotel, finishing making the arrangements.”_ _

__“Oh… is he coming back?”_ _

__Alicia walked over to the flowers on the windowsill and gingerly touched the petals of the gerbera daisy which drooped slightly in the vase._ _

__“Yes. Yes, he’ll come back this evening.”_ _

__Jack could see his mother’s shoulders tighten as they rose toward her ears._ _

__“If… he’s busy, then it’s okay. He should-- he should rest.”_ _

__Alicia looked at Jack, eyes moist, and gave him a watery smile. “I’ll let him know.”_ _

__Jack had sent Alicia back to the hotel as well, and took Dr. Martinez’s advice. He pulled on some socks, threw a hoodie on over his t-shirt, and left his room._ _

__The nurses glanced at him as Jack walked past their station. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he walked toward the elevator and pressed the down button. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels until the doors opened. Jack stepped inside and pressed a random floor._ _

__He exited the elevator, and passed the nondenominational chapel. He poked his head in. It appeared empty. Jack entered and sat down in the last row and could hear his breathing echo throughout the chapel; a shaky metronome that he had almost permanently shut off._ _

__Jack closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A breath in... a breath out... a breath in... a breath out..._ _

__He opened his eyes and looked at the stained glass windows which shone, illuminating his skin with red, purple, and blue. Jack touched himself to see if he was still real, if he was still there. He was._ _

__Jack left the chapel, and continued walking down the corridor. He looked at the signs and realized he was in the cancer ward._ _

__The waiting and family rooms seemed cheerier than the rest of the hospital. Definitely happier than his floor: coffee machines sat in the corner, lively art hung on the wall, pristine magazines were fanned out on a table. He approached the large window at the end of the hall and pressed his face to it. He was ten floors up, and New York City below him was teeming with the everyday static of life._ _

__“Fuck… what am I gonna do?” he said quietly as he ran his hands through his hair._ _

__“Is that a rhetorical question? Or you actually want input?”_ _

__Jack turned around quickly and saw a kid, around his age, sitting in one of the waiting room chairs looking at him with eyebrows raised._ _

__“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”_ _

__Jack stared at him._ _

__He was pale, thin, had blond hair, enormous brown eyes, and was clearly a patient. He had an IV pole next to him, and tubes both in his arm and a port just under his collarbone._ _

__“No…” Jack shook his head and approached. He sat down next to him, “It’s okay. I’m the one wandering the hospital. You were here first.”_ _

__“I’m Eric,” he said extending his hand. The top of it was bruised from what appeared to be various IV line entries._ _

__“Jack. Hey.”_ _

__“Hay is for horses,” Eric said with a smile._ _

__“Haha.”_ _

__“How’s it looking outside?” Eric asked motioning with his head in the direction of the window._ _

__“Busy,” Jack said as he shrugged. “Everyone’s lives are going on, like shit isn’t falling apart all around them.”_ _

__“Huh,” Eric said as he studied Jack. “Funny how that works.”_ _

__Eric paused and looked toward the window, momentarily lost in thought, then asked, “So what are you in for, Jack? If you don’t mind me asking? My mother would kill me right now for being so forward, but life’s too short, right? So what the hell.”_ _

__Jack smirked, and found himself opening up to this complete stranger._ _

__“Overdose.”_ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__“Accidental overdose. I was technically dead for a few minutes.”_ _

__“Wow. And here you are, like Lazarus. Back from the dead,” Eric said dramatically._ _

__“Yeah, back from the dead but my future sure as fuck isn’t.”_ _

__Eric frowned, “Dire. But I think there’s still more to come for you, mister. I can feel it.”_ _

__Jack looked at his feet, and then it hit him that he’d been walking around the hospital without shoes. He felt ridiculous._ _

__“I don’t know. It seems pretty final. I can’t undo what I did and all the stupid consequences of that.” Jack paused then turned to face Eric. “What about you?”_ _

__“Me? Leukemia. Yep, the big L,” he said as he held his fingers in the shape of an L to his forehead. “Acute myelogenous leukemia to be exact. Although there’s nothing cute about it.”_ _

__“I’m sorry,” Jack said feeling like it was possibly the most useless thing he could say._ _

__“Thanks. It’s not your fault-- my blood just hates me, I guess.”_ _

__“You live here?” Jack asked. Eric had a Southern accent, but he might be from New York._ _

__Eric shook his head with a tiny smile and said, “No. I see how with this accent I could be confused for a New Yorker, but nope. I’m from this small town near Atlanta. My mom and me are here for a bit. Well, let’s see -- long sob story short: I was diagnosed when I was 15, have had chemotherapy, radiation therapy, a bone marrow transplant. I was in remission for eight months. And then it came back right after I turned 17. Good times,” Bitty said with a rueful smile and continued, “We tried some more treatments, then my oncologist in Atlanta talked to my mother and Coach about some experimental treatment at New York–Presbyterian that I was a perfect candidate for, and so here I am.”_ _

__Jack looked at the kid, how talkative and animated he still was. Jack couldn't help but smirk, then asked, “Coach? As in your life coach?”_ _

__“Ha! Lord, no. Sorry, Coach is my dad. He’s a football coach at UGA.”_ _

__“And you call your dad Coach?”_ _

__“Well, he’s always been a coach, Jack, and he wasn’t always a dad,” Eric said confidently._ _

__“I guess you’re right," Jack replied with the tiniest of grins._ _

__“And speaking of accents. You’re not a local boy, either. Are you?”_ _

__“No, I’m from Canada. Montreal.”_ _

__“The land of le poutine and hockey, eh?” Eric said as he poked Jack’s arm._ _

__“Something like that,” Jack said as he shook his head._ _

__Eric smiled, and then winced. His face became flushed and perspiration began to dot his forehead._ _

__“You okay‽ Should I get a nurse?”_ _

__“No. I’m just… it’s just time for me to head back to my room. Tired.”_ _

__Jack stood up and offered Eric a hand._ _

__“Thanks.”_ _

__Jack rolled Eric’s IV pole for him, as the two walked toward Eric’s room with him leading the way. Jack slowed his stride to match Eric’s pace._ _

__They arrived at room C115._ _

__“Well, this is me,” Eric said as he took the pole. His face was pale and a layer of sweat sat across his upper lip. “When you being sprung, Jack from Montreal?”_ _

__“Two or three days, I think.”_ _

__“If you get bored, come see me. Other than getting poked and prodded, there’s not much going on around here. I can only play Uno with the little old lady in the room next door so many times.” Jack nodded as Eric leaned in and whispered, “I think she cheats.”_ _

__Jack smiled._ _

__“See you, Eric.”_ _

__“See ya, Jack.”_ _

__Jack walked back to the elevator and realized that it was the first time in weeks he had smiled._ _

**+++**

__When Jack returned to his room, his cell was ringing._ _

__“Hello?”_ _

__“Jack! Why weren’t you answering?” Alicia asked frantically._ _

__“Sorry, maman. I was just taking a walk around the hospital…”_ _

__“I called your cell, then I called your room. I was worried.”_ _

__“I’m so sorry,” Jack said softly, feeling as though he had let his mother down yet again._ _

__“No, it’s okay honey,” Alicia said and then paused. Jack could hear her exhale._ _

__“I just wanted to let you know that I was on my way. Do you want anything from Katz? A knish or pastrami sandwich?”_ _

__“I’m good. I don’t really have much of an appetite.”_ _

__“I’ll see you in a bit, then.”_ _

__“Euh…”_ _

__“Yes?”_ _

__Jack bit his lower lip, wondering how to word this and not make his mother freak out._ _

__“I sort of made a friend? And, I’d like to hang out with them this evening… if that’s okay?”_ _

__“You made a friend? In the hospital?”_ _

__Jack nodded._ _

__“Jack?”_ _

__“Sorry. Yeah, his name is Eric.”_ _

__“Are you sure he’s not some reporter that--”_ _

__“Maman. I’m not an idiot. Eric’s a patient. He’s around my age. He… he has cancer. And, he doesn’t even know who I am.”_ _

__Alicia sighed. “Jack, is that really a good idea? I mean, you’re not exactly in the best frame of mind right now.”_ _

__“Jesus, maman. Never mind.”_ _

__“No, I’m sorry. If you want to hang out with your friend, go ahead sweetheart. It’s just… you usually prefer solitude.”_ _

__Jack twisted the sheets of the bed in his hand. Solitude was easier. No one to apologize to, no one to have to constantly explain to and perform for._ _

__“He seems bored… and nice,” Jack said softly._ _

__There was a beat of silence._ _

__“Call me if you change your mind.”_ _

__**+++** __

__Jack made his way to Eric’s room later that evening and could hear voices coming from inside. He stood outside the room and waited._ _

__“I’d like to schedule a PET scan, so we can monitor your organs -- your spleen in particular -- and make sure the leukemia cells aren’t growing there. How do you feel?”_ _

__“Fine. Just tired mostly,” Eric replied._ _

__“He looks much better already,” Jack heard a woman with a Southern accent say._ _

__“Mother, it’s a trial drug not a miracle drug.”_ _

__“Don’t sass me. You do. You do look better.”_ _

__The doctor spoke again, “Well just rest, try to eat some more this evening, and Suzanne that goes double for you.”_ _

__“Thank you, Doctor Atley” Eric said._ _

__Jack stood quietly as the woman he presumed to be the doctor exited Eric’s room. Jack knocked on the open door._ _

__“Jack, you made it,” Eric said brightly. “Come in.”_ _

__“Hi,” Jack said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets._ _

__“Jack, this is my mother, Suzanne. Mother, this is Jack. We met earlier today.”_ _

__Suzanne stared at Jack, not quite sure what to make of him. She looked him up and down as he approached._ _

__“Jack Zimmermann,” he said extending his hand._ _

__“Nice to meet you Jack. So you met Dicky here? Today?”_ _

__“Uh, yes. In the hallway.”_ _

__“In the hallway?”_ _

__“Mother, can you please stop grilling my guest?” Eric said as he motioned for Jack to get closer._ _

__“So Jack, I hear the TVs have Mario Kart. We just have to ask for the controllers. Jack, can you excuse us for a sec?”_ _

__“Sure.”_ _

__Jack got up, closed the door behind him and paced outside. He didn’t want to cause Eric any trouble, and thought maybe he should return to his room._ _

__After a few minutes, Suzanne exited Eric’s room. She looked at Jack and said curtly, “Have a good night,” then walked down the corridor toward the elevators._ _

__Jack gingerly entered Eric’s room, who sat up in bed smiling._ _

__“There! Just the two of us now.”_ _

__“What happened to your mom?”_ _

__“I told her that I loved her, and that she seriously needed to get back to our place and rest because she looks like hell, and the bags under her eyes are so big they practically need to be checked.”_ _

__“You said that? To your mom?”_ _

__“Well she does, and they do!” Eric said with a laugh. “She's just ridiculous -- but in a wonderful way. So like I said, it’s just the two of us.”_ _

__The nurse came in and handed Eric two game controllers._ _

__“Here you go, baby.”_ _

__“Thanks, Trini,” Eric said as he took them and squeezed her hand._ _

__Jack pulled the chair closer to Eric’s bed, while Eric scrolled the television menu for the game._ _

__“Cool. Who do you wanna be Jack?”_ _

__“I don’t care. You pick.”_ _

__“Jack Zimmermann, picking your Mario Kart character is a personal private thing, and I most certainly will not pick for you. Besides, who you pick can tell a lot about you,” Eric said._ _

__Jack fidgeted._ _

__“For instance, I’m going to be Yoshi. Why? Because Yoshi is quick, likes to eat, and is cute as hell.”_ _

__“Mario, I guess? Or Luigi?”_ _

__“A classic. Traditional. You don’t like change, huh?” Eric said as he stuck his tongue out and concentrated on setting up the game._ _

__“Or maybe he’s just the first character and I don’t care.”_ _

__“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar or whatever?”_ _

__“Something like that.”_ _

__“Sure, Jan,” Eric said. “Okay, you’re player one.”_ _

__The two enjoyed their comfortable silence, until Eric’s nurse came in to see how he was doing._ _

__“Need anything?” she asked as she checked his temperature._ _

__“New bloodstream? Winning Lotto ticket? A hot boyfriend?” he replied through the side of his mouth._ _

__Jack looked over at Eric startled at his candor._ _

__“I’ll see what I can do,” Trini replied with a wink, and left._ _

__Jack watched Eric, as he settled back down onto his pillows with a sigh. Here he was struggling to maintain what Jack almost carelessly gave away._ _

__“Is your cancer… uh...”_ _

"Is my cancer, what?"

Jack frowned and looked down at his controller.

__“Come on, Jack. You can drop the F bomb. Is my cancer _fatal_?”_ _

__Jack nodded._ _

__“Well some types of acute leukemia respond well to treatment, and others,” Bitty made the sound of a missile falling through the air then detonating._ _

__Jack swallowed and stared._ _

__“The jury is still out on me. I seem to be responding to this treatment, but I’m a realist and I don’t wanna get my hopes up.”_ _

__“Jesus.”_ _

“Yep,” Eric said as his Yoshi crossed the finish line and beat Jack’s Mario again and continued,“Enough about that. Wanna get some ice cream?” 

__“Can you leave your room?”_ _

__“I’m not in jail, Jack. What kinda hospitals you got over in Canadaland, anyhow?”_ _

__Jack blushed and began to apologize._ _

__“I’m just messing with you, Jack. Yeah, I can leave my room. My immune system is okay right now, I’m not tired or anything. It’s a good day.”_ _

__“Okay. Let’s go.”_ _

__Eric rose slowly, and Jack grabbed his IV pole to give him room to get up. Jack noticed that Eric was wearing a t-shirt from a dance studio._ _

__Eric stopped at the nurse’s station._ _

__“Mercedes, can I have two Bomb Pops? Please?”_ _

__“Didn’t you have one this morning already?”_ _

__“Cancer,” Bitty said pointing at himself with his thumbs._ _

__“You know, you can’t keep playing the cancer card with me, Eric. You’re in the cancer ward.”_ _

__Eric batted his eyes at her, causing her to laugh, which in turn made Jack smile. He watched as Mercedes got up and shook her head. She came back with two ice pops in her hand._ _

__“Thank you, Mercedes. Say thank you, Jack. Sheesh, I heard you Canadians were supposed to be polite as all get out.”_ _

__“Thank you,” Jack said quietly as he followed Eric down the hall._ _

__They sat in the lounge where Jack had met Eric earlier that day._ _

__“So, tell me your life story, Jack Zimmermann,” Eric said as he unwrapped his ice pop._ _

__Jack shook his head. “You first. Do you, uh… dance?” he asked as he pointed at Eric’s shirt._ _

__“Oh…" Eric looked down at his chest, then back up at Jack. "Yeah, I used to.”_ _

__“Were you good?”_ _

__Eric sucked on his popsicle and appeared to be thinking hard._ _

__“No. I wasn’t good, I was great.”_ _

__“Haha.”_ _

__Eric jumped up and said, “No, it’s true. Dance was -- _is_ \-- my life. I’ve been dancing since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Ballet and modern. My dance instructor, Ms. Katya, said my lines were, '... something to aspire to.'”_ _

__“Do you ever still get to dance?”_ _

__“Once in a great while. While I was in remission, I really got back into it. Martha Graham is my idol. Do you like Martha Graham? I adore her. So good,” Eric said excitedly._ _

__“I don’t know who that is,” Jack said._ _

__“I’m sure you do, but just don’t know it.” Bitty continued, “The first dance performance I ever saw was when I was five. My moomaw took me to the Atlanta Ballet and that was it. I knew right then and there that’s what I wanted to do. She said, ‘Bitty, I do believe you just caught the dancing bug.’ And then when I first saw a Martha Graham production, I cried. I actually cried.”_ _

Eric smiled, momentarily lost in his memories. The way Eric spoke about dance reminded Jack how he once spoke about hockey. That seemed like so long ago. 

__“Bitty?”_ _

__“Yeah, my moomaw called me Bitty when I was little cause she thought I was so small and itty bitty and cute.”_ _

__“Bitty. Haha. I like that.”_ _

__“Well, don’t think you can start calling me that now, mister. I’m averaged-sized, by the way.”_ _

__Jack nodded and ate his Bomb Pop._ _

__“Ms. Katya was friends with Helen Pickett, and she was going to get me an audition at the Atlanta Ballet… but then,” Eric shrugged._ _

__“That sucks.”_ _

__“For sure. But before all this nonsense came about, I was hell on wheels on the dance floor, you know.”_ _

__Jack looked at Bitty, despite his illness he could see the remnants of a strong physique. Small but compact and tight. He imagined Bitty jumping and twirling through the air, and smiled._ _

__“If by some miracle I can get through this shit, I’d really like to dance again… Or at least once more.”_ _

__Jack looked at Bitty, then turned away._ _

__“Now you,” he said in between one lick of his Bomb Pop. Bitty pointed it at Jack and said, “Go on.”_ _

__“Shit. I feel like there’s a huge spotlight on me now.”_ _

__Bitty smiled and wagged his eyebrows, “What’s your story, morning glory?”_ _

__Jack smirked. “Well, I uh… play hockey -- _played_ hockey--”_ _

__“Are you any good?”_ _

__Jack blushed. “Yeah. I believe the word prodigy may have been used to describe me.”_ _

__“Color me impressed!” Bitty added._ _

__“It’s… not a big deal. In the grand scheme of things,” he added as he thought about Bitty’s current situation._ _

__“And? What else?”_ _

__“And you know…”_ _

__“No, I don’t,” Bitty said._ _

__Jack closed his eyes, inhaled and began, “Well… everyone was expecting me to be the next Bad Bob Zimmermann, and it’s kind of fucked up, you know? Because... that's a hell of a lot to live up to. But I’m not him -- I’ll, I'll never be him. But you’d think I would have known that, but of course, I didn’t and I kept pushing and pushing. And they push, and push. And soon everyone is pushing from all ends, and I’m suffocating, and how do you tell them to just stop? You don’t! You can’t! Jesus Christ!”_ _

__Jack held his head in his hands as they shook, the ice pop dripped and made his hair sticky._ _

__Bitty stared at him with wide eyes, and then whistled quietly._ _

__Jack raised his head slowly, and looked at Bitty, embarrassment burned his face. He surprised himself with his frankness. Jack had never said any of this to anyone, and now Bitty knew all his secrets._ _

__“Jack?”_ _

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“Who’s Bad Bob Zimmermann?”_ _

__“Are you... you… what‽”_ _

__Bitty shrugged at Jack, and nonchalantly bit his ice pop._ _

__Jack studied him briefly, then began to laugh. "Wow. I love it,” he said as he shook his head._ _

__“What? Don’t make fun of me!” Bitty said flicking Bomb Pop juice toward Jack._ _

__“Bad Bob Zimmermann is my father.”_ _

__“Is he a wrestler?”_ _

__Jack snorted with laughter. “You are too much, bud. No, he’s a hockey player.”_ _

__“Oh... Oh! So there’s family pressure to follow in his footsteps, huh? Since you’re a prodigy and all?”_ _

__“Yep,” he nodded ruefully._ _

__“And was it you… that ultimately pushed too hard?” Bitty asked softly._ _

__Jack nodded again._ _

__“My mother tells me I always give everything 110%. Guess she wasn’t kidding.”_ _

__Bitty’s face crumpled with sadness, and he carefully reached out for Jack’s hand. Jack stared at it, and exhaled slowly as he let himself be touched by this boy who soothingly stroked circles on his back with his other hand._ _

__**+++** _ _

__Jack woke up the next morning when the day shift nurse came to check his vitals._ _

__“Good morning,” he said cheerily._ _

__The nurse looked at him with raised eyebrow._ _

__“Good morning to you as well.”_ _

__Jack smiled just as Alicia walked in with a shopping bag._ _

__“He’s all yours,” the nurse said as he began to exit._ _

__“Morning, sweetheart.”_ _

__She leaned down and kissed Jack on the forehead._ _

__“How did you sleep?”_ _

__“Good. Really good, actually.”_ _

__Alicia smiled, “I’m so happy to hear that.”_ _

__“Is… papa coming today?” Jack asked as Alicia took out a couple smoothies in a carrier and some bagels with cream cheese from the bag._ _

__“He’s just parking the car and will be right up.”_ _

__Jack tensed. He wanted to see his father, he just didn’t know what to say to him. It seemed like love was never a problem for Jack. He loved Bob, he did, but outside of hockey, he never knew how to speak to him. What else was there for them? With his mother, it had been different. Although she was busy with her own career, she always had time for Jack. Always knew how to talk to him and try to connect._ _

__“Here, your favorite. Peanut butter and banana.”_ _

__Jack took a sip of the smoothie, as Alicia unwrapped the bagel and placed it in front of Jack._ _

__“It’s no St-Viateur bagel, but it will do.”_ _

__Jack took a small bite._ _

__“So what did you do last night?”_ _

__“I told you. I hung out with my friend.”_ _

__“Yes, I know, sweetheart but what did you do?”_ _

__Jack shrugged as he slowly chewed on his bagel._ _

__“Played video games, ate ice cream, talked about stuff.”_ _

__Just then Bob walked in and smiled awkwardly at Jack, catching the end of the conversation._ _

__“Video games and ice cream, doesn’t sound like your friend is too sick, eh?”_ _

__“He has cancer,” Jack said dryly._ _

__“I see,” Bob replied, his face flushed red. “And you met him yesterday?”_ _

__“Yeah, his name is Eric. He’s pretty cool. Easy to talk to.”_ _

__Alicia and Bob exchanged a quick look._ _

__“Are you going to see him again today?”_ _

__“If I can. I mean, how long are you two visiting?”_ _

__“Subtle, Jack,” Alicia said. “Real subtle.”_ _

__“No -- I mean, you two can stay as long as you want. It’s just, I told him I might stop by later.”_ _

__“If it’s fine with his doctor, we can leave in a bit so you can spend time with your friend,” Alicia said._ _

__The three stared at each other as the awkward silence permeated the room. Jack’s room phone rang and broke through the dead air, as Jack immediately reached for it._ _

__Bob and Alicia carefully watched as Jack lit up while he spoke._ _

__“No, I was awake. Yeah, yeah -- they’re here now. Yeah, both of them. Totally fine… Uh-huh. Haha. Nice. I guess so, but I never thought about that till now. That’s funny. Yeah… okay. Sure, sure. Bye.”_ _

__Jack smiled and hung up._ _

__“Was that your friend?” Bob asked._ _

__“Yeah, that’s Eric,” Jack said softly._ _

__Bitty had invited him to come up to his room before lunchtime. His mother was bringing him some banana pudding (it was his moomaw’s recipe) and then they could watch a movie together. Eric had another round of treatment that afternoon, and was worried he wouldn’t be up for visitors afterward._ _

__“He is getting some treatment or something later today, and was wondering if I could swing by before then.”_ _

__“But we just got---” Bob began, and then stopped. He exhaled and threw a glance at Alicia then looked back to Jack. “It’s fine, son. If you want to spend time with your friend, and Dr. Martinez says it’s fine, we’ll get out of your hair in a bit.”_ _

__Jack couldn’t read his father’s expression, a common occurrence, and whether he was disappointed or angry he had no idea. Jack could feel himself becoming tense as his heartbeat increased._ _

__Dr. Martinez came in and greeted them, as she kept her eyes on Jack._ _

__“Jack, are you okay?”_ _

__He nodded, and didn’t say a word._ _

__“So, I was talking to your parents and the staff at Andrews House and I think you can get out of here tomorrow. I spoke with Dr. Gupta, your vitals are fine, there doesn’t appear to be any residual damage. We can spring you posthaste.”_ _

__“Spring me just to stick me somewhere else.”_ _

__“Well, that’s the way it goes for now, kiddo,” Dr. Martinez replied unfazed. “Let the nurses know if you need anything.”_ _

__“Can I go visit my friend? He's on another floor.” Jack asked before she exited._ _

__“If it’s approved by his nursing staff, I have no problem with you going to his room.”_ _

__The visit was stilted after that, and Bob decided he and Alicia should just go and return later in the evening._ _

__“Do you want us to bring you something to eat tonight, son?” Bob asked trying to make any sort of connection with Jack._ _

__“I’ll just have whatever they’re giving me here. It’s fine, papa.”_ _

__“Do you want me to walk you to your friend’s room? I’d like to meet him if that’s all right with you,” Alicia said._ _

__“I’ll wait for you downstairs, Alicia,” Bob said. He looked at Jack, threw him a small smile and walked out of the room._ _

__“If you want to. He won’t mind,” Jack said with a tiny grin as Alicia put her arm around his and made their way toward the elevator._ _

__They approached Bitty’s room, and Jack poked his head in._ _

__“Hey,” he said as Bitty sat up in bed. He looked tired and a bit pale. “Are you up for an extra visitor?”_ _

__“Sure. Who you got there?”_ _

__Alicia walked in behind Jack and her heart clenched when she saw Bitty. Here was a boy, around the same age as her son, who was obviously deathly ill and still smiling and exuding this cheerfulness that couldn’t be stopped. He had a sweet face and soft voice, and in that moment her heart broke for this boy’s mother -- and then she remembered what she almost lost and felt on the verge of tears._ _

__Jack walked over to the side of Bitty’s bed and motioned toward Alicia._ _

__“This is my mom, Alicia.”_ _

__Bitty gaped at her, then suddenly smacked Jack’s arm._ _

__“Your mom is Alicia Zimmermann‽” Bitty croaked out._ _

__“Uh… yeah?”_ _

__“Is this it? Did my treatment finally crap out? Am I dead? Is this heaven?”_ _

__“It’s nice to meet you, Eric,” Alicia said laughing._ _

__Bitty looked at Jack, then back at Alicia._ _

__“You didn’t tell me your mother is Alicia Goddess Divine Zimmermann!”_ _

__Alicia laughed again, “You sweet boy.”_ _

“Holy Mary! No, it’s -- it’s amazing to meet you. _Dance Company_ is one of my all-time favorite movies. I must have seen it a million times!” Bitty gushed. 

__“You had no idea who my dad was, but apparently are the president of the Alicia Zimmermann fan club?”_ _

__“Shh! I’m a hip, fashionable gay boy. OF COURSE I know who Alicia Zimmermann is, Jacques! Here, have a seat. Scoot, hockey riff raff. Let your mother sit next to me.”_ _

__“I like him, Jack,” Alicia said as Bitty playfully motioned for her to sit._ _

__Jack sat back in the other chair and smiled as he watched the two of them interact. Bitty spoke animatedly with Alicia, who in turn became more and more charmed with the boy. After a few minutes, they both looked at Jack._ _

__“You okay, Canada?” Bitty asked._ _

__“Yeah, I’m good.”_ _

__Alicia studied Jack’s face as a smile spread across her face. She could absolutely see what was happening here but then the greater implications of it all hit her, and her smile died instantly._ _

__“I should get going. Eric--”_ _

__“Please, call me Bitty,” he said placing his hand on his chest. “Consider it fulfillment of my Make-a-Wish wish!”_ _

__“All right, Bitty.”_ _

__He squeed. She walked over and kissed his forehead, he squeed even louder._ _

__“Have fun, boys. Bitty, take care. Jack, sweetheart. I’ll see you this evening.”_ _

__“Bye, maman.”_ _

__Alicia exited the room and closed the door behind her. She quickly walked to the elevator and pressed the down button repeatedly and tightly held her purse to her chest._ _

__By the time the elevator doors closed, the tears would not stop flowing._ _

__**+** _ _

__“What do you want to do this morning?” Bitty asked as he readjusted his tubes._ _

__Jack sat on the chair next to Bitty’s bed, and shrugged. He scrunched up his face as though he were thinking really hard._ _

__“Go out for pizza?”_ _

__“Mmm! And then a movie?”_ _

__“Yeah, um... what kind?”_ _

__“Pizza or movie?”_ _

__“Both.”_ _

__Bitty smiled and said, “Something sweet and saucy.”_ _

__Jack smirked. “Is that for the pizza or the movie?”_ _

__“Both.”_ _

__“Haha,” Jack said._ _

__“Look at that -- who knew Mr. Hockey Jock was a blusher.”_ _

__“Shut up,” Jack said as he rubbed his face with his hands, and stared at his wristband. He was afraid to look at Bitty again because he knew he would absolutely blush once more._ _

__“Okay, so we go get pizza, and then see a movie -- hopefully with Ryan Gosling in it -- and then what?” Bitty asked as he shifted his body slightly to face Jack._ _

__“Then I guess we come back.”_ _

__“That’s it? You’re an easy date.”_ _

__“Date?” Jack asked quickly as he looked directly at Bitty._ _

__It was then Bitty’s turn to blush. It was easy for him to throw some flirtations Jack’s way, but when it was brought to his attention -- it was too much._ _

__“Just kidding… I know your type is probably a very different blond than this one,” he said as he pointed at himself with his thumbs. He then looked at Jack and quickly added, “Probably a brawnier one. Or… I mean… uh, shit... Or curvier?”_ _

__Jack had never been asked this openly if he was straight -- even though Bitty was trying his hardest to backpedal. He had only come out to parents because of the circumstances surrounding his overdose._ _

__He had been thankful that they were both understanding and that he didn’t have to go into much details other than a simple, “Yes.”_ _

___Yes_ , Jack liked girls and boys. _Yes_ , Jack had given his parents yet another reason to worry about him. _Yes_ , he was a continual fuck up. The fact that this was not the case at all didn’t matter to Jack, as he would feel like he would feel, and no one could convince him otherwise._ _

__But now, here was Bitty, biting his lower lip, flushed deep red, mortified that his simple joke had taken a wrong turn._ _

__“I’m sorry, that was super rude of me,” Bitty said._ _

__“It’s okay,” Jack said quietly._ _

__“So. Do you wanna watch something?” He asked as he fumbled with the remote._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__Bitty fumbled with the remote as he turned on the television._ _

__“My mom isn’t coming until 1:00, and I’m scheduled for my junk at 1:30 so we pretty much have all morning.”_ _

Bitty stopped on a channel where _Legally Blonde_ had just started. 

__“How about this? I love Elle Woods.”_ _

__“Sure. I haven’t seen this before,” Jack said as he pulled his chair a little closer to the bed._ _

“You’ve never seen _Legally Blonde_?” 

__“Nope.”_ _

__“Are you shitting me, Canada?”_ _

__“Why would I do that?”_ _

__“Okay, whoa. Well, then you’re in for a treat. I love this movie. Sheesh.”_ _

__Jack rested his arm on Bitty’s bed and felt a certain calm wash over him as Bitty gave running commentary and made Jack laugh again and again._ _

__“Reese Witherspoon is so cute,” Bitty said._ _

__“Is that the actress?”_ _

__“Uh-huh.”_ _

Jack took a deep breath, and then just let it go, "She’s cute. He’s cute, too.” 

__Bitty stilled and stared intently at the television._ _

__“Yeah, he is,” Bitty said softly._ _

__Jack smiled as they both continued watching._ _

__Jack and Bitty spent the morning in Bitty’s room watching TV, playing cards, taking a Cosmo quiz, and just talking. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he felt this open with anyone. Maybe it was because he knew his time with Bitty was limited, or maybe because he could plainly see that Bitty was nonjudgmental and really a kind-hearted person. Jack found himself telling Bitty things he'd never told anyone -- not his parents, his therapist, anyone. And it made Jack feel as though a small weight had been lifted from this shoulders. He felt safe around Bitty, in a way he couldn't quite explain or even understand._ _

__When Suzanne arrived, Jack was loath to leave -- especially knowing that he’d be discharged first thing in the morning._ _

__“Hey, darling,” Suzanne said as she entered the room and immediately went in for a hug._ _

__“Mother, you remember Jack, right?”_ _

__Suzanne turned to Jack and gave him a quick once over, then smiled when she looked into his eyes. She was able to see that hint of sadness and the kindness brimming just under the surface that Bitty had told her about._ _

_”There’s just something about him, mama, that tugs at my heart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with sadder eyes in my entire life,” Dicky had said over the phone._

__Suzanne saw it now, and instantly began worrying for them both._ _

__“Hi,” Jack said awkwardly as he stood up. “I should get going so you have time with your mom before your treatment.”_ _

__“Will I see you tomorrow before you go?” Bitty asked._ _

__“I’m leaving in the morning and I don’t wanna bug you if you’re recovering or not feeling well.”_ _

__“Jack, I’m sick. Every day I’m recovering and not feeling well. Please stop and say bye, okay?”_ _

__He nodded and smiled at Bitty, then walked out. He stood by the door briefly, and heard Bitty say, “I just wanna give him a big hug.”_ _

__“Dicky! You gigantic flirt,” Suzanne said with a soft laugh._ _

__Jack ran to the elevator._ _

__**+++** _ _

__That morning, he woke up before dawn after a night of tossing and turning, battling with half-assed sleep. He thought about Bitty, and how normal he had felt with him. What a pair the two made -- one a hot mess who couldn't take control over his own life, and the other battling a deadly disease while still being one the nicest people Jack had ever encountered._ _

__Was Bitty some sort of test, some reminder the universe had thrown his way to make him see what a bonehead Jack was?_ _

__He sat up in bed and looked out the window. The sun wasn’t even out yet. The floor was quiet, and all he could hear were the hushed voices of nurses and someone’s monitor beeping in the next room. A failed medical lullaby._ _

__He wondered how Bitty was doing._ _

__Jack got up and peed. As he washed his hands, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He still had the face of a kid, but inside he felt like an old man. A tired old man who had had enough. Was this normal?_ _

__He walked out of the room and past the nurses station._ _

__“Do you need something?” One of them asked._ _

__“No, just… stretching my legs. Is that okay?”_ _

__The nurse looked at him for a full beat, then said, “Just don’t go too far and be back in five minutes.”_ _

__Jack smiled and walked down the hall. He discreetly entered the elevator and made his way to Bitty’s floor._ _

__There was one nurse sitting at the desk who was busy with notes, so Jack hurried and walked past, then stood outside Bitty’s room. He peered in and saw Bitty asleep on his side._ _

__“Jack?” Bitty called out quietly._ _

__Jack entered as Bitty turned over._ _

__“I could feel you there.”_ _

__“Couldn’t sleep,” Jack said as a greeting._ _

__“Me neither. I had a rough night, so you’d think I’d be zonked out right now… but nope.”_ _

__“I thought your mom might be here?”_ _

__“Nah, I sent her home. Told her she’s no good to me if she’s dead on her feet.”_ _

__Jack smiled._ _

__“How was your treatment?”_ _

__“Okay. Just a little barfy still but other than that, I feel really good,” Bitty said with a bright smile._ _

__“That’s great. I’m glad it’s working.”_ _

__“Me, too,” Bitty said smiling still._ _

__“I’m leaving later this morning.”_ _

__“I figured.”_ _

__Jack looked down at his feet, afraid to look at Bitty -- though he wasn’t sure why._ _

__“I had fun hanging out with you.”_ _

__Bitty chuckled. “Yeah?”_ _

__Jack looked up and caught Bitty’s eyes._ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“Well, Jack Zimmermann, I hope never to find you around these parts again, you hear me?”_ _

__He nodded and began to speak, but then froze._ _

__“What? What is it?”_ _

__“I… so... will you write to me?” Jack asked, almost a whisper._ _

__Bitty studied Jack’s face, the pleading look, the sadness in his eyes._ _

__“Sure! Why wouldn’t I?” Bitty said. “Do you want my email?”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“It’s easy to remember: erbittledance@zmail.com. You got that?”_ _

__“I’m… bebetterJZ@zmail.com,” Jack said with embarrassment._ _

__“ _Lord_ , Jack,” Bitty said laughing. “That will be easy to remember, too. I’ll write. You betcha.”_ _

__“Okay. Promise?”_ _

__“Promise.”_ _

__Jack stood at the side of Bitty’s bed. He wanted to hug Bitty, but was afraid to ask. Bitty watched him carefully, then took pity on Jack and reached out for his hand._ _

__He squeezed it and said, “I promise.”_ _

__Jack smiled and walked out of Bitty’s room._ _

__Bitty sighed and let his head fall to the pillow. As soon as the heard the elevator ding, he immediately buzzed for the nurse._ _

__“What’s wrong, baby?” Trini asked._ _

__“Can I…”_ _

__“You’ve got pain?”_ _

__“Yeah,” he nodded, sweat trickling down his forehead._ _


	2. PART TWO

Dear Jack,

Our first official correspondence. What? Nice! So, how’s life in the big house? J-K. Things going okay for you? I really hope they are. I think about you there and hope they are. As for me, the initial stage of the trial is over so now I get to continue it on an outpatient basis. So far, so good. I guess?

My mother and I are staying in New York a while longer, which is nice. I can finally start exploring, little by little. We live in a great neighborhood with so much to see and do, and I'm itching to get out there. There’s a dance performance at The Joyce I wanna see but mama wants me to take it easy my first few days out of the hospital.

Our apartment is basically a shoe box, and I may have adopted a subway rat as a new pet, but I’m just happy to be able to be out with the rest of the world. 

I was toying with the idea of writing you a letter, like an honest to goodness old fashioned letter. I actually have great cursive! But as I took out a piece of paper, I realized that maybe it was too personal. Too much of me? Is that weird? Considering how much we've already shared... maybe a little.

How are you?

Bitty

P.S. Do you Facebook or Twitter at all?

 

**+++**

 

Bitty,

It’s good to hear from you. I was wondering how you were doing. I’m so glad your treatment is working and I hope it isn't too awful. As for me, I’m settled at Andrews House. The centre is actually in a house. It’s an old Victorian house. There's a pool and stuff, but as you can imagine I am bored, it is boring, and I know I need to be here but I’d rather not. 

I’d rather not have someone breathing down my neck as I take my medicine. I’d rather not see the look of disappointment on my father’s face. I’d rather not have to sit in a room and talk to a bunch of strangers about my problems. I’d rather not ALL OF IT.

Sorry I’m just dumping all my stuff in this email. 

Since I’m the one in captivity now, you’ll have to tell me all the sweet ass stuff you’re doing in NYC. Tell me everything.

Jack

P.S. I don’t like Facebook. Why do I need to see a picture of everyone’s coffee and what they doing at that exact moment? No one is that interesting. And Twitter just seems like a big room where everyone stands and shouts at each other without filter. Ugh. Hard pass.

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack, 

LOL! Tell me how you really feel. 

No, I get it though. I totally get it. Like your life is supposed to be yours, but somehow it’s suddenly not. And you’re trying to work your way through it, and you know what you want but it doesn’t matter. You don’t have a say in your own life. It sucks. So bad.

When I was first diagnosed, my parents lost it. My mom was sobbing for days. Like, she'd just look at me and break down crying. Lord! And they were all gung ho about what needed to be done, and who I needed to see. And the thing is, they didn’t even ask me. I mean, I know I was a kid but that thought didn’t even enter their mind. This thing was happening to me. ME. But I was the low man on the totem pole when it came to making any decisions. How does that work? How? Anyway!

And now for my random baking trivia of the day. As a master baker (yes, I just gave myself that title and my moomaw would definitely agree) I am picky about who I choose to share my wisdom with. So get ready. If you substitute bread flour for all-purpose flour in a chocolate chip cookie recipe, you’ll get a chewier cookie. The more you know, Jack. The more you know!

Tell me about your days.

Bitty

P.S. I’m hugging you to bits, by the way. You can do this!

 

**+++**

 

Bits,

At our group session, the counselor asked what we are hoping to find out about ourselves during our “time together.”

Some people cried when they were talking, some looked pissed off. Me? I just sat there. I really didn’t have an answer or thought. Is that wrong?

I want to tell them I’m just a kid. Really, I may be tall and strong but I’m still just a kid. I don’t know who I am yet. I just know that I fucked up and need help. I’m glad I’m getting help. 

My anxiety is under control right now, but how do I know what I want to find out about myself? I don’t even know who myself is yet.

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

Exciting news! Coach is coming to visit. He has some time off and the university is releasing him from their clutches.

He’ll spend two weeks with us. He's never been to New York, so I'm sure it's going to be major culture shock for him. I haven’t seen him in so long, I miss him and I know my mama misses him. It’ll be good for the two of them to spend time together. I said that they have to go out on a date when he's here.

While I love Coach and am thrilled to see him, the best part is he’s bringing Bey with him. And who is Bey, you might ask?

Bey is none other than the cutest cat that ever catted. She’s my sweet girl and I’ve missed her something fierce. She's a tortie and so beautiful! I’ll send you a picture of her when she’s all settled in her new temporary digs. 

It’s always weird spending time with Coach because… well, I feel like I let him down somehow. He’s this big football legend back home and here he got stuck with me as a son. Gaaaaaaaaay as the day is long! I dance, I bake, I sing, I hate football. 

Well, that’s not entirely true, I like football plenty (Go Bulldogs!) but it was never the life for me. LOL! I sound like that guy in that football movie that is all serious like and says in a terrible Southern accent: I don’t want your life!

Anyway, it’s always interesting to say the least. I know he loves me, I know it. But I just can’t help wondering if he wishes I had been different. 

It’s weird seeing him trying to be affectionate. And he is, don’t get me wrong, just not the touchy-feely kind of affectionate. Which is something I LOVE. My mama would hold me in her arms when I was little, and I’d sit there and just melt into her. There was nothing better. Coach would pat my head, or clap my back trying his darndest. It’s funny, I guess.

Like I said, I know he loves me though and I’m happy to have him come see us. Come see me.

Bitty

P.S. I think you know yourself better than you think you do. Trust your instincts, padawan. 

P.S.Squared Don’t think I didn’t notice that “Bits” there, Mr. Zimmermann. You're gonna be the death of me.

 

**+++**

 

Bits,

There’s so much I want to say about my dad but I don’t even know where to begin.

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Jack!!!

No pressure, no worries.

Eric Richard Bittle

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

I’m sitting in the kitchen, watching my mother roll out some dough while Bey sits at my feet. She’s purring and happy in her cat life, in the way only a cat can be. She just wants to be fed, and loved on and feel she’s cared for. They are easy to love and I’m jealous of her simple life.

Mama is now swearing up a storm, because she can’t get a jar of something or another opened. Her hands are too buttery! And Coach went out to the bodega down the street for some sandwiches. He's addicted to Cuban sandwiches, I swear. So it’s just her and the jar, head to head.

“Dicky! So help me!” She's so cute.

New York is loud and busy, and I love it for that reason but it’s also loud and busy. And I hate it for that reason, because what I really want more than anything is to be loud and busy.

Bitty

 

**+++**

 

Dear Bitty,

The clinic smells weird. I keep telling everyone, but no one believes me. Maman says it’s fine, papa says I’m imagining things but I know what I smell. And it just smells weird. 

When I was a boy and we’d visit my grandparents’ house, I would sometimes hide in my grandmother’s closet. It was dark and quiet, and I just liked it. Her clothes would be hanging down low, and brushing up against my head. I’d rub my face on the soft dresses. The material felt good on my skin. It calmed me, and I like hiding there. 

But then she started putting mothballs in her closet, and I hated the smell. It ruined everything. I couldn’t hide in there anymore. I couldn’t enjoy it. I was so pissed off. That was supposed to be a time for me to feel safe and away from everyone, and now all I could do was smell that shitty smell. Like a constant poke in my head telling me that space, that time, wasn’t really for me anymore.

So yeah, it smells weird in here and no one believes me.

I don’t know where I was going with that, but I just had to tell someone who would believe me and I feel like that would be you.

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

Today I made it out of the apartment, by myself! Thank you, Beyoncé!

I went to the hospital yesterday for my weekly check up and my oncologist said there wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t go out alone. I made them write it on a piece of paper and address it to Ms. Suzanne Bittle, which I then showed mama as I told her I wanted to go out. Alone. Solo. By myself. Ever since Coach went back home, my mother’s been on me like white on rice. So I’ve made sure not to lose my doctor’s note.

Of course, I’m not an idiot so I didn’t venture too far. And I’m not entirely convinced she wasn’t following me either. Creeper.

But I did it Jack. I was out in New York City by myself. I went to a couple shops and looked at clothes, I went to a comic book store, I ate a hot dog, and I went to Strand. It was my first time. Have you ever been there? The books, Jack. The books! I could just curl up in the cookbook section alone and live the rest of my days there, Jack. 

I found this book called “Martha Graham: Sixteen Dances in Photographs” and it was so beautiful. I just sat there on the floor and just looked through it. No one cared or minded. They all just stepped around me. Alas, it was too expensive and I had to put it back. I didn’t think my first solo trip should end in petty larceny.

Then I went across the street and treated myself to a little something at the chocolate cafe. After that, I was starting to feel tired so instead of walking back to the Union Square subway (I have to wear a mask when I ride the subway, it’s very superhero chic!), I took a cab like a proper New Yorker. 

I felt very sophisticated and grown up. LOL!

While I was at that chocolate place, I saw this couple (a boy and a girl) and they looked like they were on their first date. She smiled at whatever he was saying, and he tried for a good five minutes to hold her hand but he was too scared to do it. And I was cheering that boy on, because you can see he was gone on her. Just like she was gone on him. And then it hit me. I felt sad because I’ve never had that for myself. With everything that’s happened to me and all that’s been taken away, I think it hadn’t hit me until that moment that love was taken away from me.

I mean, who’s gonna wanna date me? Hold me? Kiss me? Not with this stupid port and messed up life. 

I know, I KNOW I should be happy I’m alive and doing well but sometimes, you just want someone to hold your hand and look at you like you hung the moon, you know? 

I ordered a chocolate fondue after that, just cause I could.

Eric

 

**+++**

 

Bitty,

So imagine my surprise when I came to my room and there’s a package waiting there for me. You really shouldn’t have. I love my Strand toque. I wore it to group session, even though it wasn’t cold out. I just liked the tightness of it around my head. It made me feel calmer. So thanks. I was wondering how you knew my address, but then I figured you just googled it.

I was skyping with Dr. Martinez and she said it was good to see me smile. I didn’t tell her why I was smiling. That’s my business. But thanks for making me smile. You’re good at that.

How was the chocolate? Sweet, I bet.

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Jack Laurent Zimmermann!!!

When you said you wanted to send me a thank you card for the beanie and asked for my address, I thought you were just being a goofy old man. BUT THEN, mama tells me I got something in the mail and it’s from Canada and I open the box and what’s inside?

A copy of Sixteen Dances in Photographs!

Let me live, JLZ! I cannot even right now. 

xo

P.S. Toque? Okaaaay!? You Canadian goofball.

 

**+++**

 

Dear Mr. Bittle,

Did I mention that I could practically live through my days here on autopilot and no one would even notice? I don’t even think I’d notice, for fuck’s sake.

This is my daily routine:

I have breakfast and then a group meeting. We're not allowed to sleep in so everyone is up pretty early. 

Some people go to yoga before breakfast, but I prefer to run. So I run three miles around the perimeter of the grounds. When I run I don’t have to think about anything. I just run and let my mind go blank. My feet do the thinking for me. It’s one of my most favorite things.

After breakfast, we have our morning group session. Clarity is key! Clarity! I'm rolling my eyes, by the way. But I guess it’s not all bad because I’m learning to recognize patterns and triggers. I guess.

In the afternoons, we have therapy after lunch. Sometimes it's one on one, other times with a group. Of course, my favourite is family therapy. You can’t see me right now but I am totally making finger quotes around the word favourite. Yes, please. Let’s spend an hour letting maman and papa know how I screwed everything up. So helpful!

Anyway, we can also choose from extra therapies like art or music, but my favourite is the exercise programs and the gym. I know, shocker, huh? After that we have a bit of free time and then another evening meeting.

Dinner and then it starts all over again the next day. That’s my life. Good times. 

The other day though, I was in the reading room and I was looking through the books and found one called The Story of World War II. Who knew history was so interesting? It was so good. I finished it right away, and now I’m going to see if there have more history books I can read. 

Aren’t you glad you have such an exciting pen pal? Also, we're practically the same age. How does that make me an old man???

Signed,

The Canadian Goofball Old Man

P.S. The other day you said who would want to date you? Anyone would be stupid not to.

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

I’d like to think you’re more than a pen pal. If you haven’t figured out yet you’re my closest friend, then I must be doing something wrong.

You’re always listening to my stories, and replying, without judgment or being mean. You make me laugh, and I hope I really do the same for you.

If I see something interesting or funny, my first instinct is always “What would Jack say about this?” 

The other day, we took the Q train to Central Park and I sat there just watching people. Mama and I were sitting on a bench, taking in some sun and sucking down some Frappuccinos and there was a family with their little boy and you can tell they had been walking that kid through the entire park. He was groaning and moaning -- he couldn’t have been more than five -- and he was like, “I need a break! Can we just get a pretzel? I need a break!”

And I couldn’t stop laughing. He was just so damn tired. All that kid wanted was a damn pretzel, bless his heart. It was hilarious! I almost wanted to follow them to see if they finally got that peanut his pretzel.

My point is, I saw that and thought of you sitting there with me laughing at this poor little boy. So you see, Mr. Zimmermann, you’re more than just a pen pal.

Bitty

 

**+++**

 

Hey you!

Today, I thought I’d share with you the fine art of Quebecois swearing. What’s that? You are in for a strange as hell treat.

So the sacres are this collection of swear words that are all based on a bunch of Catholic things. So there’s crisse, tabarnak, osti, câlisse and sacrament. Which mean Christ, tabernacle, communion wafer, chalice, and sacrament.

Sure they seem like harmless words but string them all together, and you’ll make my grandmother blush. But she swears all the time, so maybe not.

Next time you’re pissed off just let loose a good crisse de câlisse de sacrament de tabarnak!

That’s all I got for you this time, bud.

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Jaaaaaack,

Well now! So does this mean I have to show you a bunch of Southern sayings and junk? Look, there’s really only one you need to know. This is the only one that means anything.

There’s someone who is a complete moron? Bless their heart. There’s someone you can’t stand for shit? Bless their heart. There’s someone that’s trying their hardest but are still messing everything up? Bless their heart.

Use it wisely. Use it often. Go forth and prosper, my child.

Yours,

Bits

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

Let me tell you about my moomaw. I adore this woman. She’s a record blue ribbon holder for her pies and jams, but she’s also such a brave, strong woman. She went through so much as a young girl, but it didn’t break her. It didn’t make her bitter. Not only did she introduce me to dance and baking, she was also the first person who talked to me about being gay.

One day, I was about 13 or so and we were making biscuits for Sunday dinner she said, “Dicky, you are the light of my life, and I love you more than any of your cousins.”

I couldn’t believe she was saying this.

“I love my grandbabies but you, you’re something special.”

I just stood there, cutting biscuits. I couldn’t even look at her, but she kept going.

“You’re a Phelps through and through, even if you have the Bittle name. And we Phelps are proud of who we are, who we love, and how we want to be. And God made you perfect just the way you are.”

Well, I just started sobbing like a baby right then and there, but I couldn’t say a word.

“Promise me you’ll never be ashamed of who you are. I love you and am so proud of you and the man you’ll become.”

I had snot running down my face and just nodded. My mama walked in and saw me crying and she asked what had happened. Moomaw jumped right in and said that she thought her biscuits were better than my mama’s and that I was so offended, I started crying.

My mama huffed and rolled her eyes, and I just started laughing, even with snot running down my face.

And that’s how I came out to my moomaw without saying a single word. That's like some Tennessee Williams-level of Southern drama right there!

xoxoxo

Bitty

 

**+++**

 

Bits,

Your moomaw sounds amazing! My maman’s mother died before I was born, so I can’t imagine what it’s like to have the classic sweet granny most people have.

My papa’s mother is your typical French woman. Always stylish, always smelled good, always a glass of red wine or a cigarette in her hand -- or both. She isn’t a particularly cuddly woman, but she does show love in her own ways I guess. Like Coach!

She taught me how to swear, bought me my first watch, and my first tie. She moved to Montreal when she was 19 to attend McGill University, and I guess she never left. 

Family is sometimes a strange thing to me. People randomly meet, fall in love or not, and from there a family is made and grows. And you really don’t have a choice who your parents are, your grandparents are. You’re just sort of stuck with them for better or worse.

Friends you can choose. People you fall in love with you can choose. And those people love you because they want to, not because of some family obligation. The people you love, and who love you, see the best in you and you see them.

I guess that's one million times more important, right?

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Dear Bitty,

It hasn’t stopped raining here for the last three days, so I haven’t been able to go running. I’ve been feeling a bit anxious (There! I learned to identify a goddamn feeling. Two points for Zimmermann.) and during group session, they noticed.

I was told to think of something that calms me, to close my eyes and count to ten, to stroke my arm, all sorts of stuff.

But when I closed my eyes, the first thing that I thought of was you. And I thought I’d be freaked out about it but I wasn’t. I wasn’t, Bits.

And I thought back to all the times lately that I’ve felt like shit (and there was a fuckton of times, trust me) and each time I thought of you. You’re my happy place. You’re what makes me calm.

After emailing for all these weeks, I’m just so glad you’re in my life. I just needed to tell you.

If it’s still raining tomorrow morning, I’m just going to run in the rain and think of you.

Love,

Jack

 

**+++**

 

Dear Jack,

I don’t know what to say.

Eric

 

**+++**

 

Me again.

I’m sorry, that was stupid and mean of me. I just… You have to know how I feel about you, right? I’m just going to lay my cards on the table which mama says I shouldn’t but I don’t care.

I like you, Jack. I mean I really LIKE you. So when I read that I’m your happy place, it’s more than my heart can take I guess. I’m not asking for anything or trying to force you to say anything, but I’m just happy. 

And I could use any little bit of happy I can right now. It’s not fair you’re far away but I’m glad you’re in my life. Even if my life is what it is.

Guess I’m just saying you’re my happy place too.

Yours, 

Bitty


	3. PART THREE

“You seem more settled, Jack. How do you feel? Do you feel settled?”

Jack sat on the couch, flanked by his parents, and he considered -- actually considered -- how he felt. Dr. Martinez watched him carefully with kindness in her eyes.

Jack’s correspondence with Bitty had been going on for almost two months, and his time at Andrews House was done. When he first arrived, just the thought of getting through the day produced anxiety. Now, with a proper dosage of medication and his therapy, each day seemed less daunting for Jack. Doable. 

He’d begin outpatient therapy and would finally return home tomorrow. Once he was home, he and Bitty could start calling one another. The prospect of that thrilled him more than he could say.

“I feel good,” he said. “I want to go home.”

Bob reached for Jack’s hand and squeezed it.

“That’s so good to hear, son.”

Jack stared at his father’s hand and smiled. He turned to face Bob and nodded. It was. It was doable.

**+++**

Going home was less discombobulating than Jack had anticipated. He avoided the television -- he didn’t want to hear any NHL news about anything or anyone, and his parents agreed. Instead, Jack spent his time reading history books learning about people, places, and wars long gone but not forgotten. He found that he had a knack for remembering dates, places and the names of people long dead. He kept them alive by learning all about them.

His first night at home, after a quiet dinner with some celebratory Welcome Back chocolate cake, Jack stared quietly at the ceiling and thought about the direction his life would take now. During his time rehab, he had been so focused on the here and now, that he hadn’t given much thought to the tomorrow.

In truth, he was afraid. Would hockey still be a part of his life? If not that, then what? What was he good at? When you’ve been groomed your entire life for one thing, and that thing was gone… where do you go?

Jack felt his heart palpitate, and a dull chill at the base of his spine. His stomach began to cramp and twist, as his palms grew sweaty. He sat up and thought back to therapy and all the calming mechanisms he had learned. Soon, his heartbeat began to slow and then he thought of Bitty. After a while, Jack fell asleep.

He and Bitty continued emailing, but now phone calls and Skype sessions were also included in their repertoire. The first time they Skyped, Jack was blown away by how beautiful Bitty was. He’d remembered that Bitty was cute, with his big eyes, freckles, and turned up nose but now, seeing Bitty animated and in front of him -- even if it was just on his laptop -- he thought Bitty was absolutely gorgeous. It was then that it struck Jack that he may be in love with Bitty.

“Maman, how do you know when you’re in love?” Jack asked as he tried to appear casual. He and his mother were in the living room watching a World War II documentary.

Alicia stiffened and looked at Jack sitting on the floor in front of her.

“Love?”

Jack nodded, then looked over his shoulder and back at Alicia with expectant eyes.

“Well, when all you can do is think about this person, and how you want to make yourself better for this person, and you only want what’s best for them, and to be around them all the time,” she took a swig of her wine and continued, “... to make them laugh, to comfort them, to support them, and you can tell them anything, odds are that’s love sweetheart.”

Jack smiled and then turned back to continue watching the television. Alicia grinned when she saw how his ears turned red.

“And how is Eric doing these days?” 

“Fine,” Jack replied quickly without turning away from the screen.

Alicia sat back, enjoyed her wine, and the quiet company of her son, thankful that he was happy... and in love.

**+++**

Jack and Bitty continued their daily communication, with Jack knowing for certain that he was in love. He was in love with Eric Richard Bittle. Of course, he hadn’t said anything because what if Bitty didn’t feel the same? Sure Bitty had said he liked Jack, but like and love are hardly the same thing and Jack didn’t think he could stand that sort of rejection, so he kept things as they’d always been.

Only lately, when they’d talk on the phone Jack had noticed that things were regularly taking a slight turn. An unexpected, though not unwanted, divergence. It started one evening when Bitty was retelling an afternoon at the movies with his mother.

“She wanted to see this sappy English drama, but I really didn’t think it’d be such a good idea considering how weepy she can get,” Bitty said laughing.

Jack lounged in his bed, and chuckled. He had learned so much about Suzanne, that he could absolutely see that entire exchange go on in his head.

“So what did you end up seeing?”

“ _Iron Man_. I mean, I’m not really into superhero movies but I’ll guess watch them, you know? Plus, how could I pass up ogling Robert Downey, Jr.? Lord, that man is hot.”

“Oh?” Jack said as he sat up straighter and brought his knees into his chest.

“Hawt with three T’s,” Bitty said as he accentuated the S.

Jack scraped his teeth along his bottom lip, then asked, “So, is that your type?”

“He’s like total eye candy, but nah. Too old for me.” Bitty paused and whispered, “I prefer something else.”

“What?” Jack asked, voice husky.

“Blue eyes, dark hair, sweet smiles, broad shoulders, closer to my age…” Bitty replied slowly. “What about you, Jack?”

Jack gripped the phone tightly and remained silent.

“Well?”

Jack stared at his toes, and cracked them slowly, biding his time.

“Southern blonds with freckles and…” Jack took a deep breath then said, “sexy accents.”

Bitty laughed -- a quiet, soft thing. “Lord! You’re such a cornball.”

The clock in his room ticked thunderously. Jack’s heart, even more so.

“I can be your cornball, if-- if you want.”

“This boy,” Bitty said breathily. “If you were here right now…”

“Yeah?”

Jack listened to Bitty’s breath. How he wished he could touch him, hold him… kiss him.

“I’ve never kissed anyone, you know,” Bitty said as if he could hear Jack’s thoughts.

“Never?”

_tick-tock. tick-tock. tick-tock._

“Nope. Would you kiss me, Jack. If I were there?”

"Yes... " Jack swallowed. “I wish you were here.”

“Me too. So much.”

“Bitty, I lo--”

Just then Bitty laughed. 

“Shit!” Bitty called out as Jack heard him drop his phone then scramble to pick it up. “Okay, mother! I will!” He yelled out. 

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, feeling the intimate bubble they were both in suddenly pop.

“I gotta go,” Bitty said. “My mother’s about to read me the riot act for still being awake. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning.”

“Euh… okay. You can’t stay a little… um, never mind. Okay. Bye Bits,” Jack mumbled.

“Good night, Jack,” Bitty said softly.

“Night.”

Jack stayed in place with his phone pressed to his ear for a few beats, then exhaled loudly.

“ _Crisse_ ,” he said as he threw his phone across the bed. 

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, and was about to get up and splash some cold water on his face, but then he thought of Bitty’s face, Bitty’s hands, his mouth… 

He could hear Bitty’s soft sigh and pictured his smile, the way he’d lick his lips sometimes when they’d chat on Skype. And the suddenly, it was all Jack could do to keep his hands off himself. He pressed his head into his pillow and arched his back slightly, exhaling shakily as his hand traveled down his chest, toward his stomach.

And if his hand dipped lower still, well that was nobody’s business but his own.

**+++**

Jack and Bitty's long-distance relationship moved forward, comforted by the fact that they were in the same time zone. Hours apart from one another, really. It made all the difference in the world to them. They continued to explore the physical aspect of their relationship as well -- as physical as it could be with a phone and a Skype connection.

Every day, Jack felt himself becoming closer still with Bitty while they shared their days, funny anecdotes, and insights that came with the innocence of youth. Jack's calls with Bitty were the highlight of each evening. He felt more grounded than he had in a long time, and his love for Bitty grew more and more. And it was during one of their nightly phone calls that Bitty interrupted Jack in the middle of a story.

“So, I have some news.”

Bitty’s voice suddenly sounded tinny, and far away. Jack pressed his phone closer to his ear, and felt that coldness he hadn't felt in a while.

“Yeah?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m going home.”

Jack sat up in his bed, surprised by this. “You are?”

“Yes! The doctors said I could. Guess that’s that!”

“So… it worked? You’re --- you’re all better now?”

“Can you believe it? I’m happy to be going home.”

“That's amazing, Bits. God! I can't believe it!" He laughed, strong and bright, but then Jack immediately wondered what it meant for them, and blurted out, "I -- I want to see you. When do you leave?”

Bitty paused and said, “As soon as we can, I suppose. We were just subletting the apartment, so we could leave anytime, really. We have to wrap up a few things, rent a U-haul... mama wants to be back in Madison as soon as possible. She misses home something fierce.”

Jack felt as though he had been punched in the gut. 

“But what about us?” He asked.

“Honey…” Bitty sighed. “We haven’t seen each other in months, not really. So if I go back home things won’t really be that different.”

“Bitty…”

“Please, Jack. I just need you to… just... please. Okay?”

Jack nodded.

That night, after they hung up, Jack couldn’t stop thinking about Bitty moving so far away. He was thrilled -- beyond thrilled -- that Bitty was better. He would be eternally grateful for that miracle, but he wanted and needed to see Bitty before the left New York.

Jack pulled out his laptop and began to peruse Time Out New York’s website and that’s when he saw the information for the event.

The next morning during breakfast, his mother finished up a phone call with Bob who was out of town doing a charity event in Toronto. Jack wondered how to bring his idea up to Alicia. He decided the best route was the most direct one.

“Maman, I need your help.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What is it?”

“Bitty is getting ready to head back to Madison, and is only in New York for a little bit longer.”

“Why is he going back home?” Alicia asked alarmed. 

She had grown fond of Eric. He seemed like a very sweet boy, bravely dealing with the hand nature had given him. He’d offered Jack his friendship without asking for anything else in return. And Alicia was grateful that Jack had someone he could confide in.

“No! Maman, it’s fine. The treatment was successful, he’s much better and going back home.”

“Really, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” Jack said happily taking his mother’s hand.

“That is such wonderful news, Jack.”

Jack nodded with a smile and said, “So, I need your help.”

“With?”

“Can you and I go to New York? Martha Graham’s company is doing a performance of a bunch of her most famous dances and they’re doing Lamentation -- and that’s Bitty’s favorite -- and I want to take him.”

“Jack… have you spoken to his mother?”

“Well, no -- but maybe you can?”

“Is he strong enough to go?”

“Yes, he is! Maman, please. It would mean so much to him, and me. Once he’s in Madison, he’ll be too far and who knows when we’ll see each other again. You could talk to Dr. Martinez and tell her we’ll be in New York for a few days. You could talk to Bitty’s mom. Please?”

Alicia stared at Jack. 

“When have I ever asked for anything?” Jack said, pleading.

“Do you have his mother’s phone number?”

**+++**

Alicia and Jack checked into the Four Seasons and as soon as they were done unpacking, Jack called Bitty.

“The matinee is at 2:00, so I can pick you up at 12:45? It’s not too far from you,” Jack said as Alicia handed him a blue tie and took the red one he had in his hand.

“How about I meet you there? It’s at the NYU place, right?”

“The Skirball Center for the Performing Arts?”

“That’ll be it. I’ll see you there at one. How’s that sound?”

Jack frowned. He wanted to see Bitty’s apartment, he wanted to say hello to Suzanne, and pet the infamous Bey.

“How’s that sound?” Bitty asked again.

“Okay. I’ll see you there.”

Alicia stepped closer to Jack and helped him with his tie. 

“I should be back by midnight, the latest,” she said as she fixed his collar. “Is that okay with you? Will you be all right?”

“Sure. I’ll see if Bitty wants to eat something afterward, then I’ll take him home and come back.”

“Are you sure? I’m a little nervous about leaving you alone,” Alicia said then abruptly stopped and continued, “Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything…”

“Maman, it’s fine. I know, and don’t worry. I’m not going to take all my meds all at once. I know how expensive they are.”

Alicia stared at Jack then smiled, “Was that… did you just make joke? A morbid joke, but still!”

“I know, right?” Jack said laughing.

Alicia pulled her son in tightly for a hug, smiling, thankful for the tiny gift he’d just given her.

**+++**

Jack arrived at the performing arts center at 12:30, just in case. He had with him a small bag filled with macarons from Ladurée. He looked at his watch repeatedly, and a few minutes later he caught a glimpse of Bitty turning from Washington Square Place, and immediately caught his breath.

Bitty saw Jack and his face lit up. The two instantly ran toward each other, Bitty jumped into Jack’s arms as they drowned in each other’s laughter.

“You’re here! You’re really here,” Bitty said joyfully.

“I am, bud. I’m right here with you,” Jack said as he gripped Bitty tighter, buried his nose into Bitty’s head and inhaled the scent of his shampoo.

He put Bitty down and said with face bright, “Here, I got these for you.”

Bitty took the bag and peered inside.

“Macarons! They’re so pretty, Jack.” 

He took one out and held it to Jack’s lips. Jack took a bite and closed his eyes, enjoying the tart taste of lemon in his mouth.

“Yummy?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

Bitty smiled and popped the rest of it in his mouth, then said, “I think the doors don’t open till one. Wanna go sit in the park for a bit?”

The two walked over, and instinctively took each other by the hand. Jack smiled broadly as he looked down at their fingers, intertwined. 

They crossed the street and made their way to Washington Square Park and found themselves in front of the dog park.

“Lord! This is adorable, Jack!”

A dachshund chased a German shepherd, while a yorkie and dalmatian barked. Jack and Bitty found a bench to sit on, and continued to watch the dogs while they ate their macarons. Bitty pressed his side into Jack’s and pretended to contemplate the dogs, but in reality relished the warmth of Jack’s body so close. 

Jack took a deep breath and then put his arm around Bitty. He never took his eyes off the frolicking dogs as Bitty melted into Jack’s touch, and smiled while he reached for another macaron.

They remained silently nestled, until Jack cleared his throat. 

“I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Bitty looked up at Jack and smiled. 

“This is perfect. I can’t believe you came to me.”

“Why can’t you believe it? That’s all I’ve wanted… to see you again.”

Bitty’s gaze flitted across Jack’s face as he sighed wistfully and said, “Mr. Zimmermann. I had no idea you were a romantic.”

Jack blushed and wrapped his arm tighter around Bitty’s. They could do this, he thought. They could maintain a long distance relationship. People did it all the time, and most of those people weren’t as compatible and perfect for one another as he and Bitty were.

Maybe he’d play for the Thrashers, if Bitty wanted to stay in Madison. Or maybe a few years down the road, Bitty could move to Montreal and go to college there. Or even New York -- since Bitty seemed so at home here. If he hustled and worked hard maybe he could get a hockey life back. He could see himself becoming a Ranger. Maybe? He surprised himself with his line of thinking. 

Jack looked at his watch.

“We should get going, eh?”

“Eh?” Bitty said with a smile. 

He stood up and took Jack’s hand as he pulled him up, and led him back toward the theater.

**+++**

“So have you seen many Martha Graham performances?”

Bitty took a program from the usher and followed Jack down the aisle.

“Well seeing that Martha Graham died in 1991, nope.”

“Quit chirping me. You know what I mean, Bittle.”

“Chirping? What the hell is that?” Bitty said as they sat. His eyes grew wide when he realized exactly how close they were to the front row.

“Oh, haha. Chirping -- it’s a hockey thing. It means like giving someone a hard time, making fun, busting their balls, I guess.”

“Chirp chirp,” Bitty replied and then squeezed Jack’s knee. “Actually, I’ve never seen any company performances. Not live anyway, just on YouTube and on the television. Jack… these seats are amazing.”

Jack blushed. “My mother made a couple calls. I guess she knows some people who know some people.”

“Thank you Goddess Alicia, patron saint of the gay boy,” Bitty said dramatically as he clutched his program to his chest.

“So I haven’t seen any of this before. What’s it gonna be like?”

“It’s… I can’t even explain what it means to me. Technically, it's all about contraction and release but -- and I guess you can say this about all sorts of dancing -- it's just about the way feelings are expressed. It's just so real and honest.”

Jack listened fascinated, in love with Bitty’s enthusiasm and love. 

“Like, I’ve always known I was gay, you know? I never had this great awakening or whatever, I just always knew… even if I didn’t have a name for it. Well, back home I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Hey, y’all! I’m gay!’ so I would show people who I was through my dancing. I could make them see, share that with them. All of Martha Graham’s dances are just filled with emotions, with this deep expression of want, of love, of life. It’s just so brave. So perfect.”

Jack could see Bitty’s eyes begin to shine with tears, he leaned in and took his hand.

“So tonight we're gonna see bits from Frontier, Clytemnestra, Heretic, and of course, Lamentation.”

“Why do you love that one so much?”

Among their many conversations, Bitty had talked a lot about dance and his admiration for Lamentation, in particular. Bitty looked down at their hands, and studied them for a while.

“Ugh, where to begin? For starters, almost the entire thing takes place sitting down. Cool, right? Challenges all preconceived ideas of what dance should be. And the costume is so amazing. The dancer wears this long tube of material in a beautiful purple color that they stretch and pull. And it’s just this string of movements, moving into one another and fighting against each other. I just think it’s so, so beautiful. It’s supposed to be the personification of sadness, and it’s so powerful. I cry every time I see it.”

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off of Bitty. He didn’t know what to say, but felt Bitty’s passion flow through him.

“It’s a dance for a woman, but I know that entire choreography by heart -- I told you that before. I fought Katya tooth and nail to let me perform it.” He paused and continued, “She was this close to saying yes, but then I never got my chance.” 

The house lights began to dim and Bitty sat up taller in his seat. As the performance began, Jack spent half of the time watching it, the other half watching Bitty, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take the amount of love his was feeling for that boy.

**+++**

After the performance, Jack took Bitty by the hand and said, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Mr. Zimmermann, what other thing could you possibly do when this has been wonderful already?”

Jack found one of the ushers and said, “I’m meeting Faye Allen. She said to tell anyone to take us to the side door, please.”

The usher nodded.

“Jack‽ What is going on?” Bitty whispered as they were led through the theater.

“You’ll see,” Jack replied with a grin.

“Here you go,” the usher said as he led them to a door backstage. Jack knocked a few times, and someone answered.

“Hi, I’m Jack Zimmermann and I’m meeting Faye Allen.”

The woman smiled, “Hello, Jack. I’m Faye.” She extended her hand and Jack shook it. “Alicia told me all about you two. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Thanks for having us. This is Eric. He’s the dancer!”

Bitty stood shell-shocked. Faye then looked at Bitty and smiled warmly. 

“You’re Katya’s boy, right?”

Bitty nodded mutely.

“Uh, he can talk. Trust me,” Jack said, “I think he just short-circuited.”

Bitty shook his head to clear the fog of excitement and then stuttered, “Yes, ma’am. Sorry! Yes, Eric. Eric Bittle. That’s me. You know Ms. Katya?”

Faye laughed. “Katya and I go way back and I’ve heard a lot about you, in fact. Katya has never had favorites, she just sees talent and knows it. But you, young man, you were -- are -- her favorite.”

Bitty positively beamed and Jack was certain he heard a tiny squeal come out of him.

“Would you like a tour, Eric?”

Jack stepped back as Faye put her arm around Bitty and began to show him around. Faye and Bitty chatted the entire time as Jack followed behind. After their tour, they ended up backstage. By then the auditorium had cleared out. 

Bitty’s eyes swept over the stage, “God, it’s so big.” 

The bench from the performance of Lamentation was back on center stage, and Jack was vibrating with anticipation.

“The stage is all yours,” Faye said with a smile.

“What?” Bitty whispered. “Are you for real?”

Faye nodded and held out a hand toward the stage.

“I - I don’t have anything… these clothes!”

“You’ll manage.”

Bitty looked at the bench on the stage, turned and looked at Faye and then at Jack who gave him one quick nod. He nodded in return, and quickly took off his dress shirt, shoes and socks and walked toward the bench.

He sat down, and Jack could see how quickly his chest rose and dropped with each breath.

The house lights went dim, and one purple spotlight shone on him.

Bitty closed his eyes, and took in several calming breaths. He slowly opened them and looked over at Faye once again, who stood next to Jack. Faye gave Bitty a thumbs up, and he smiled.

Bitty sat on the bench, and began moving his head back and forth. The movements growing larger and larger. Zoltán Kodály's Opus 3, Number 2 then began to play. Bitty rocked and twisted his body, swaying from side to side; torso, bending and turning. He swung his arms and legs with strength, grace, and an exact poise Jack hadn't observed before.

Jack had never seen him with so much control over his body, so much love with each movement. This was what Bitty was born to do. Jack may have been a hockey prodigy, but he knew right then and there that he’d never be as gifted with his body as Bitty was.

By then several dancers had come on stage and joined Jack and Faye. Bitty unaware, as he was lost in his own world with the music and his body.

When Bitty finished out of breath, everyone clapped and cheered, and Bitty turned to look at them, tears shining on his face lit by the spotlight.

**+**

Bitty and Jack exited the theater; they laughed and held hands, as they ran down the sidewalk.

“Jack! That was the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh, the joy he felt was overwhelming.

“And then they clapped! They clapped, Jack! Martha Graham dancers clapped for me! And I -- holy shit, Jack! And it’s all because of you!”

Jack blushed and shook his head, “My mom, she--”

Jack’s words were quickly stopped as Bitty stood on his tiptoes and pulled Jack down for an unexpected kiss. Jack quickly melted into Bitty’s kiss, and they kissed and kissed on the sidewalk in the middle of Greenwich Village, without a care about the world around them that continued moving while they stood in their own private moment.

Soon, Bitty pulled back and looked into Jack’s eyes as he said, “I want to be with you.”

Jack’s breath hitched, as he understood what Bitty was saying.

“My mother is out. We could… go back to my room?”

Bitty nodded as he blushed, “Yes. Let’s do that.”

**+++**

Jack led Bitty to his room at the Four Seasons and fumbled with the key card, trying to calm himself. 

“Where’s your mom?” Bitty asked quietly.

“With friends until late tonight. They're having dinner and who knows what else. So it’s just us. I mean, she has her own room and all, but we’re alone.”

Bitty finally leaned in, took the card from Jack's hand, opened the door, and pulled him inside.

Bitty looked around the room, and touched the pile of Jack’s clothes left haphazardly on the dresser. He put the key card down and turned to face Jack.

“It’s nice… your room.”

Jack smiled as he stood by the closet and didn't move.

Bitty then walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, and smiled softly at Jack.

“Are you going to come in all the way?”

Jack nodded.

“Come here, silly. Don’t make me chirp you,” Bitty said and held out his hand.

Jack sat next to Bitty, and took his hand, while Bitty looked up at Jack with eyes wide and expectant.

“Will you kiss me again, Jack. Please?”

Jack nodded, unable to speak as he leaned in to kiss Bitty, who in turn took Jack by the arms and lowered them both onto the bed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jack said nervously as he pressed several small kisses onto Bitty’s lips.

Bitty arched into Jack and said, “You won’t. I promise, you won’t. Jack, I want… I just want…”

Bitty then pulled Jack closely to him and into a deep kiss…

Bitty was thin, painfully so, but Jack knew he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as Bitty was there, naked and in his bed. Bitty sat and trembled, as Jack leaned in and kissed him again and again. He murmured soothing words of encouragement into Bitty’s mouth, and Bitty wrapped his arm around Jack’s neck, the two rocked into one another.

Jack placed gentle kisses onto Bitty’s neck, arms, he then moved down Bitty’s chest, his legs, as Bitty eagerly pressed his body up and into those kisses. 

And when Jack finally took them both into his hand and Bitty softly whined and closed his eyes, clutched at Jack, he’d swear he’d never seen anything as sweet in his entire life.

When they were done, Jack rested his head on Bitty’s chest and listened to the soothing lull of his heartbeat. 

“Bitty?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I love you.”

Jack could feel Bitty’s heart begin to race, and as Bitty remained silent, Jack felt his own heart join him.

“I love you, too, Jack. So, so much.”

Jack exhaled, flung his arms around Bitty, and squeezed tightly.

Jack and Bitty stayed in bed and explored one another and their love, for a few more hours.

**+++**

Once hunger overcame them both, they got dressed and went to a nearby Chinese restaurant where they ate dumplings and fried rice as they laughed and talked. Afterward, they hopped on the subway and strolled through Central Park, as they held hands and felt secure within the cocoon of one another. 

“Do you want a pretzel?” Jack asked with a gigantic grin.

“No, I’m stuffed!”

Jack looked at Bitty and wagged his eyebrows. 

“Oh! You sweetheart -- you remembered my story.”

“I need a break! I need a pretzel!” Jack said with laughter, as he dramatically placed the back of his hand over his forehead.

“How about some ice cream instead?” Bitty added with a smile.

“I thought you said you were stuffed?”

“Never for ice cream. That’s what we had on our first date, remember?”

“I hate to break it to you, bud,” Jack said as he pulled Bitty in for another hug, “But an ice pop is not ice cream.”

“Whatever, Canada. You just let me call it what I want, okay?” Bitty said with a smile, and pointed at a Mister Softee truck parked on the street.

Eventually, they came upon Bethesda Terrace and Bitty walked toward the steps and sat down, face flushed.

“You okay, Bits?”

Bitty scanned the landscape before him, and nodded. 

“Yeah... just a bit tired, that’s all.”

Jack sat next to Bitty, planted a kiss on his cheek and then took his hand.

“So, I was thinking… just because you’re going back home doesn’t mean things have to change. I mean, I guess you’re probably going to go back and finish high school first, right? But after, there are lots of good schools in Montreal. Or maybe Juilliard here? I know you’d get in. I just know it!”

Jack looked was so happy -- it broke Bitty’s heart. Bitty smiled softly at him, and didn’t say anything.

“If you’re at Juilliard, I can come up and see you on the weekends, and…”

Bitty studied Jack, so alive and animated, and he thought back to a conversation he had with his mother that morning.

_”Dicky, you can’t lead him on like that. It’s not right, and you know it. You know it!”_

_“Mother, I know what I’m doing!”_

_“Do you, Dicky? Do you really?”_

_Suzanne stopped and took Bitty by the wrists, “Baby, I don’t want you -- or that boy -- to be in a world of hurt, okay?”_

Bitty tugged on Jack’s sleeve to stop him.

“I lied,” Bitty said quietly.

“What?”

Bitty exhaled, closed his eyes, and then looked at Jack again. “Jack, I lied… to you.”

Jack felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand and his skin prickle. 

“About what?” he asked, voice barely audible.

The tears were already running down Bitty’s face, he smiled and bit his lip as he tried to compose himself for Jack who was beginning to tremble.

“I’m going home… because I’m starting hospice care. The treatment stopped working, sweet pea. My body’s stopped working. Everything’s gone to shit… and I’m gonna go home.”

“H-hospice care?” Jack jumped up and took a step away from Bitty, not knowing what to do, how to breathe. 

Then he yelled, “You can’t do that! You can’t do that me, Bits. To us!”

Bitty looked at Jack, suddenly angry at his reaction.

“I’m not your goddamn Manic Pixie Dream Boy, Jack. I’m not your cure-all. I’m not here to fix you! That’s not my job!” Bitty cried out, curling his hands into fists. 

Jack stared at him, tears spiked his lashes. Bitty paused, then exhaled softly.

“Sweet pea,” Bitty said gently, “you… you have to live for you. You have to be better for you, that’s not…” Bitty sighed, “I can’t, Jack.”

Jack’s face crumpled as he fell to his knees and buried his head in Bitty’s lap.

“You know what Martha Graham said about dance? She said, ‘Sometimes it is not pleasant. Sometimes it is fearful. But nevertheless it is inevitable.’ That’s kinda my view on death, you know?”

Jack buried his face into Bitty’s abdomen. His sobs choked and loud. Bitty sighed again, and placed his hand on top of Jack’s head, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sick… and you can’t fix it. It doesn’t matter how mad you get, honey,” Bitty stopped and began to cry in earnest, “It doesn’t matter how mad you get.”

Jack looked up at Bitty, face red and tear-streaked. “Are you... in any pain? I can’t stand you hurting.”

“I have a morphine patch on my arm, so I’m not in any real pain. Not really, I promise.”

“Good,” Jack said, barely a whisper. “I don’t want you in any pain. I don’t...” 

“My sweet boy. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

Jack pulled away and swallowed down a sob. He took a couple deep breaths and exhaled slowly.

“Bits, I love you.”

“I know, honey. I love you, too.”


	4. PART FOUR

Jack and Bitty's phone calls continued once he returned to Madison. Bitty didn’t want to Skype anymore, however, because his health had taken a rapid decline, “And I don’t want you to see me looking like death warmed over.”

As the days passed, Jack grew more and more withdrawn. He hardly ate, he didn’t leave the house. The times he wasn’t on the phone with Bitty, he was either emailing Bitty or in his room reading. 

Of course, their conversations became less frequent since Bitty spent most of his days asleep now. Moments of complete lucidity became a rarity and Jack wanted to be available for any chance to speak with Bitty.

“I want to come see you,” Jack finally said one afternoon.

“No,” Bitty said gently. Jack could hear his labored breathing through the phone.

“Why can’t I? You’re hurting me, bud. Is that what you want?”

“No. I just… I don’t want you to see me like this, okay?”

“Eric, _please_.”

“Jack, I said no. Please respect that, will you? I love you, but I can’t. I don’t want…”

Jack listened as Bitty took several slow deep breaths. He gripped his phone tightly, wishing he could crawl through and climb into bed with Bitty. He’d hold him, and tell him he loved him.

“I love you,” Jack said in between tears.

“I love you, too,” Bitty said quietly.

“I love you. I love you, and I’ll always love you.”

“I’m counting on it.”

**+++**

That was the last real phone call Jack had with Bitty. Whenever he’d call now, he’d mainly speak with Suzanne. She’d warmed to Jack over the last few weeks and would give him updates.

“He was up for a couple hours. He sipped a Frappuccino, which is about the only thing he can keep down. That boy and his coffees,” she said fondly. “I should probably be giving him something healthier… but it makes him happy, so I don’t care.” 

Jack smiled. “When he wakes up again, can you tell him I’m thinking about him.”

“Of course, honey. It’ll make Dicky so happy.”

Alicia and Bob watched over Jack carefully. He had been walking on a tightrope of wellness for the last several weeks, and they were worried what this would all mean for him.

During therapy, Jack would mention Bitty peripherally but not really go into details. If Dr. Martinez tried to bring it up or make Jack elaborate, he would immediately shut down.

Bitty was Jack’s, and Jack’s alone -- and he felt it would be a betrayal to talk about him or his feelings about him with anyone. So Jack kept to himself, crying to his heart, alone and in the middle of the night.

**+++**

The last evening Coach and Suzanne knew they would be spending with their baby was both the shortest and longest of their lives.

Maria, the hospice nurse, had said Bitty probably wouldn’t make it through the night. He slept all the time now, and Suzanne spent her days reading to her sleeping boy. She’d wipe down his body with soapy sponges and warm towels, she’d apply lip balm to his chapped, chapped lips, and morphine patches to his small wrist. She’d quietly play Beyoncé for him throughout the day.

Coach would watch his wife and his boy, feeling helpless and broken. They had moved his hospital bed to the living room, so that Dicky would be part of their everyday lives and not confined to his bedroom.

One morning, Suzanne woke up and found Coach sitting next to the bed, reading football scores to Dicky who remained asleep. 

And so, when Maria told them this was it, they didn’t call anyone else in the family because they wanted Dicky all to themselves. They knew it was selfish, but neither of them cared. They were there when he entered the world, and wanted to be the only ones there when he left.

The two sat at the foot of his bed and listened to his breathing all night. It was ragged and slow, but it was still there. 

Coach put his arm around Suzanne as they watched their Dicky sleep -- was it even sleep anymore? They weren’t sure, but it was comforting to them somehow to imagine he was sleeping… dreaming of pies and dancing.

The light of dawn crept in through the windows, and Suzanne opened her eyes. She immediately cursed herself for falling asleep, and saw Coach had done the same; his head on Dicky’s feet, clutching at his legs, while he slept. 

Dicky was still breathing, thank god, but then she noticed that the space between each breath grew longer and longer.

“Richard?” she whispered.

Coach instantly opened his eyes and sprang to his feet. He made his way to the head of the bed.

Suzanne slowly crawled toward him, never taking her eyes off her son. Her beautiful, loving, brilliant son.

A breath in… a breath out… 

A breath in… a breath out…

A breath in…

And then that was it. 

And in that instant, every single pure and lovely thing both Suzanne and Richard Bittle had ever known was gone. 

Their son was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

And nothing would ever be the same.

**+++**

Later that morning, Jack was sitting at the table with Alicia who had made him a PBJ when his phone rang.

Alicia blanched as she looked at the screen and saw it was Suzanne’s number.

Jack looked at Alicia with wild eyes, as he knew what the call was about to announce.

He stared at the phone and let it ring a few times, until he finally picked up.

“H- hello?” 

“Jack… it’s Dicky’s mama.”

Jack gripped the phone tightly, feeling as though his feet may give out underneath him. He began to tremble, and Alicia jumped up to reach out for Jack.

“Jack, I’m sorry. He’s gone… It happened early this morning.” Suzanne said. She then cried out, “Oh my god, my baby!” and began to sob.

Jack could hear her cries as he fell to his knees, the uncontrollable shaking in his body growing stronger. He began to gag, dry heaves taking over as he crawled on all fours.

“I can’t…” he gasped. “I can’t!” 

Alicia scrambled for the phone, while Bob ran in to pick Jack up. He was in the living room and had heard Jack’s shouts.

Jack cried as his father rocked him in his arms, kissing his forehead, holding him tightly, saying he was sorry, so sorry -- and Jack felt nothing and everything all at once.

**+++**

Jack doesn’t remember being picked up by his father and tucked into his bed. He doesn’t remember anything but Suzanne’s voice, Suzanne’s cries.

_He is on his bed and the days morph into night and back into days, and none of it matters. Not his mother’s voice pleading with him to eat, not his grandmother on the phone, not his father stroking his hair -- the only thing that matters is that Bitty is gone. He’s no longer a part of the world. He’s not sitting somewhere with the sun shining on his face, he’s not laughing, calling Suzanne “mother!” with complete love and exasperation. He’s gone… and Jack doesn’t care about anything else._

Alicia called Suzanne after the funeral and apologized for not being able to go. Suzanne thanked Alicia for the flowers. They had sent a large wreath of purple hydrangeas with a purple bow. She asked how Jack was doing, and Alicia tells her everything. The two cry on the phone, bonding the way only mothers can bond.

Jack listened from the door in his bedroom, and then climbed back into bed. The days turned into weeks, and the hole in Jack’s heart was still open and raw. For how can it be filled when the light of Bitty that lived in there was gone? Extinguished.

One afternoon, a package was delivered to the house. It was from Madison. Alicia and Bob see it, and had reservations about telling Jack. They decided to tell him.

Jack ventured out of his bedroom and sat at the kitchen table staring at the box. Bob made Jack's favorite dish, and Alicia gets him to eat two spoonfuls. Already they considered it a small victory.

Jack finally stood and retrieved scissors from a kitchen drawer. He sliced open the box and reached in, pink packing peanuts poured out the sides. He felt something round and soft, and pulled out a cellophane-wrapped pie. Jack blinked at it, and placed it on the table.

Also inside, he found the copy of the Martha Graham book he gave Bitty along with a couple envelopes. All three wrapped together with a silky purple ribbon.

He took the book and letters, and exited the kitchen as Alicia and Bob watched. 

Once in his room, Jack threw himself onto his bed and clutched the book to his chest. He could swear that he smelled Bitty on the pages of the book. He stayed that way for a few breaths, his face already wet with tears. He opened his nightstand, took out his Strand beanie from the drawer and pulled it onto his head.

He looked at the envelopes. One was clearly written in Suzanne’s handwriting, the other appeared to be Bitty’s. It pained Jack to suddenly realize he had no idea what Bitty’s writing looked like until that moment.

He opened Suzanne’s letter first…

> Dear Jack,
> 
> I don’t know why I wanted to write to you but I did, and I feel like it is something that Dicky would have wanted and approved of.
> 
> First of all, I want to thank you for making the last months of my Dicky’s life so happy. You gave him something he never thought he’d have: a chance at love and happiness. I know you two were in love. He told me everything, and my heart is full knowing my boy had a chance to experience that part of life. I know you’ve had a rough time too, Jack, so I’m happy you were there for each other. I thank god every day. I am so very, very sorry though that you are suffering. I know you must be -- in a way so different from my pain, but I know you feel it nonetheless and it is real. And I’m sorry. But I’ll be thankful to you for as long as I live.
> 
> I’m bawling my eyes out over here, so I’m going to switch to a lighter topic. One of the things Dicky wanted and never got the chance to do was to bake something for you. I know he mentioned that he loved baking -- and he really did. It was so therapeutic for him. His moomaw taught him to bake ever since he was a teeny tiny thing.
> 
> “Mother, I wish Jack could taste this,” he’d say when he’d pull a pie out of the oven. He loved baking almost as much as he loved dancing. Almost.
> 
> So I want to honor my son in any and every way I can. I’ve enclosed a pie from one of his recipes. He had a huge binder with all his recipes, he was always making up new pies or putting twists on classics. This is his cinnamon Dutch apple pie, with a maple crust. He was adamant about it having a maple crust. I hope you enjoy this and think of my Dicky. I feel in some small way, he lives on through this.
> 
> The other letter is for you from Dicky. He wrote it for you just before he began sleeping his days away. He thought about you all the time, and you have to know how much he had grown to love you. He really did love you so much. Jack, I hope you can be happy -- please try. Try, for Dicky’s sake. It’s what he would have wanted.
> 
> If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep sending you pies. It makes me feel good to make them. To keep his legacy going. I won’t take no for an answer, so just know you’ll be getting a pie a month.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Dicky's Mama

Jack read the letter three more times, and sat up and made his way back to the kitchen. He could hear Alicia and Bob as they whispered to one another, then stopped when Jack entered the room.

“Sweetheart, do… do you need something?” Alicia asked.

Jack stood silently, scratched his cheek, then said, “Pie?”

Bob ran to the cupboard and pulled out a dish, fork, and a pie server. 

“Sit,” Alicia said kindly. “Milk?”

“Yes… please.”

Bob served Jack a slice, while Alicia placed a glass of milk in front of him.

Jack stared at the pie for a moment, then took his fork and ate a bite. He chewed slowly and finally swallowed. He did it again, and again. Took a sip of milk and continued. Soon, the pie was gone and Bob and Alicia watched him. Alicia had tears running down her face.

“Can I have another?”

“Sure, champ. Whatever you’d like son.” Bob cut another slice and gave it to Jack, who gave him a small smile in return. 

That night in bed, with a stomach full of pie, Jack pulled out Bitty’s letter from under this pillow. He took a deep breath and opened it.

His hands trembled slightly as he began to read it.

> Dear Jack,
> 
> Hi, honey. It’s me! Coming to you from the great beyond. Boooo! I know, you’re probably shaking your head right now, but I’m just trying to make you smile. Because lord, I really hope you do. I hope you’ll be able to smile again. 
> 
> I’m sorry I didn’t let you come see me. I just wanted you to remember me the way I was, not what I’m quickly turning into: a shell of who I was, a flawed copy. This body isn’t the real me, I feel like it’s the idea of me. And that’s not who I want you to see. I want you to see me the way I was dancing on stage, in the park running with you, in your bed loving you. That’s the real me. The me I share with you.
> 
> My entire life, all I really wanted was someone to love and someone to love me, and it’s something I thought I’d never have. First because I was gay, and I just thought it be too hard or scary. But then I got sick, and then I really thought it just wouldn’t happen for me. 
> 
> And one day, I’m sitting in the hospital, minding my own business and along comes this boy. This drop dead gorgeous boy, and he looks so lost and hurt and scared, too. And all I want to do is hug him and tell him it’s going to be okay.
> 
> And we start talking to each other, and this beautiful boy is sweet and funny (even if he doesn’t think he is) and right away my heart begins to open for that boy. And that was it for me. This boy is perfect, and I have to let him know that everyone makes mistakes and everyone struggles in their own way, but how we pick ourselves back up from those struggles shows people who we are. Not our past mistakes.
> 
> Jack, I never told you how very proud I am of you. You work hard, and you keep at it and when others would have just given up, you keep trying and reaching your goals. You’re so brave Jack, and don’t ever let ANYONE tell you you’re not. I’m here to tell them, Jack Zimmermann works harder than god.
> 
> When I think that this amazing boy with the biggest heart ever, even with his flaws, loves me, well I just can’t even believe it. I just wished you believed in you. I wish you believed in you, even half as much as I do.
> 
> Promise me that you’ll try to be happy. Promise me that you won’t let this mess you up. I mean, lord, you can be a little sad for me (heh!) but honey, I want you to succeed in whatever it is you want to do. Whether that’s hockey or something else completely. 
> 
> I know you can do it and be happy, if you just let yourself be. Let people love you, Jack. Let people into your life. I know your mama and papa love you a ton, let them. Please.
> 
> You have a good heart. I see in you the best person I’ve ever known. Do you believe me, Jack? Can you believe in you, Jack? 
> 
> I love you, I love you, I love you. 
> 
> Always.
> 
> Eric

That is the first night Jack reads Bitty letter. He’ll continue to do so every night for years to come...

**+++**

Jack looked outside his bedroom window, and watched as the light drizzle hit the garden early in the morning. The bushes behind the house swayed gently, while the wisteria on the pergola bent as the rain began to build.

Jack looked up at the clouds, gently swirling, how they flowed at their own pace. He sat up, put on his running gear and went out for a run in the rain. His first run in weeks.

When he returned home, Bob was sitting in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee. He smiled at Jack, and reached in the fridge to pull out yogurt, coconut water, and frozen fruit. Jack stood there quietly and watched as his father made him a smoothie. 

“Can you take out the protein powder from the cupboard, son?”

“Sure,” Jack said and reached for the vanilla one.

Bob added a scoop and started the blender as Jack stood nearby. Bob turned off the blender, took a large glass from the dish rack and poured the smoothie. He handed it to Jack.

“Thanks, papa.”

Jack took a small sip and smiled, then Jack found himself in his father’s arms, the smoothie tossed onto the floor. Bob squeezed Jack, tightly, tighter still as Jack felt himself loosen and come apart in his father’s arms, squeezing and sobbing in return.

**+++**

The weeks passed and Jack continued running. He accompanied his father one day to a rink, Alicia watching them from the stands. Bob and Jack take long walks in their neighborhood, and talk well into the evening.

They discuss the pressures the kind of life Bob had lived can bring. They talk about love, friendship, past mistakes and future hopes, and Jack begins to feel a deep bond with his father. 

Alicia is overjoyed at the change in their relationship. Alicia and Jack had always been close, and it killed her to see Jack and Bob so distant. The two were identical in so many ways, and now that they finally seemed to have connected… it was more than she could ever hope for.

“You won’t always feel like this, Jack.” Bob said one evening as they sat on the patio sharing a slice of lavender peach pie. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but things will get better.”

Jack looked up at the moon, momentarily got lost in its glow, then swallowed the pie he had been chewing.

“One day, you’ll wake up and it will hurt less. And then the next day, and the next day. I won’t say you’ll ever forget him, but one day you’ll remember him and it won’t be with pain.”

“I hope so, papa.”

Each night, Jack reads Bitty’s letter. It becomes a prayer of sorts -- his own personal mantra. 

_I believe… I believe… I believe..._

He marvels still that someone like Bitty could have loved him and thinks if Bitty loved him, then perhaps he was deserving of that love. 

Upon Dr. Martinez’s suggestion, he begins to keep a journal. He writes about his fears, his hopes, his dreams. He writes about Bitty. 

Bitty forever and always.

Bob tells Jack about a pee wee league assistant coaching job that opens up nearby. Jack thinks about it for a few days, and reluctantly decides to apply. It turns out to be one of the better decisions he’s made in a long time. He then moves on to coach a squirt team. 

Children are uncomplicated and honest. They’ll tell you what they think, and their affection is never feigned. The children love their Coach Zed, and with their help, Jack finds joy in hockey once again.

One afternoon, as the children pile up on him on the ice, Jack laughs. He laughs for the first time in a long time. 

And he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be okay.

**+++**

_I’ll be starting Samwell in the fall, and this is something I want to do for me. I think he would have liked that and encouraged me. He would be happy for me._

_When I dream and do see him on those rare occasions, I feel that I can do anything -- and all I want to do is make him proud._

_Sometimes, I imagine that he can see me... and that he is proud. And that’s all I want. To live a life Bitty would have loved._

Jack put down his pen and closed his journal. He placed it in his desk drawer next to Bitty’s letter. He touched it gently, then pulled out the Samwell course catalog that arrived in the mail, and began to plan for his future. 

A gentle smile on his lips, and hope in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All OMGCP characters by Ngozi.
> 
> Here is a performance of Martha Graham's [Lamentation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfphRYEhl7s). 
> 
> David Bowie's [Space Oddity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYYRH4apXDo).
> 
> Many thanks to my betas and readers who gave it their blessings, even as they were all like, "I hate you!" while they were reading it: [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease), [Disraeligears](http://archiveofourown.org/users/disraeligears), and [onawingandaswear](http://archiveofourown.org/users/onawingandaswear) a.k.a. [Whoacanada](whoacanada.tumblr.com). I know they love me anyway. <3 
> 
> I had constant tears in my eyes while I wrote this. My mother died of cancer, so a lot of this brought back many memories -- but it is something that I _had_ to write.
> 
> I hope you liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://omgcpheartbreakfest.tumblr.com/) on the omgcpheartbreakfest tumblr page!


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